Started raining a while ago, light shower really... I guess that's why it's still so hot tonight... that kinda hot where your shirt sticks like a second skin and beads of sweat just fall like you've stepped out of the shower, it hasn't rained in a while either so you can smell that dust in the air.
I'm standing here at the window looking out, if you asked me what I was looking at exactly... I wouldn't have an answer... the street looks pretty though... you know how everything gets wet and the street lighting reflects off it and things look brighter and clearer... I wish I could say that's how things felt right now but I can't.
Like me, the rest of the neighborhood is quiet, well, except for Charlet... It happened again.
You can still her crying... her sobs just edging over the pittering and pattering on the roofing. I've stood here too many times anchored to this same spot listening to her cry that I can tell it's not the pain now she's crying from... It's a wail of sorrow, bereft of hope, drowning in helplessness... One that crushes me every single time I hear it...
And every time, I'm here... asking myself the same question...
Why am I just standing here...?
Thinking of how to help her... got nothing and it kills me, I mean it's not my place right??
Everyone else pretends like nothing's happened when they see her... acting like things are normal....
I think her family has given up on her... I don't know if she has any friends, it doesn't seem like anyone visits...
Why she stays I guess only her and god knows... He'll kill her soon... It won't be long
Like those young ladies I read about in the papers about these last couple years,
And again I ask myself...
Why am I just standing here...?
I think of her so called "husband" and wonder how do you let yourself do that... How? When as her partner you should be cherishing her and keeping her safe... loving her, how do you beat her so badly, bully & traumatize her...? I just don't know... Truly she needs help, and again I ask myself...
Why am I just standing here...?
I keep telling myself, the next time I'll do something... the next time, I'll go over and say something, I'll... I'll bust the door down and fight him... Calling the cops? What use are they in this country.
The rain has slowed a little... I'm looking out my window, you can still hear her crying, my heart drops and again I ask myself...
Why am I just standing here...?
by Daz
